He delved deep into her flanginal cavework, rooting around for a good place to deposit his spunk, finding one, unloading with a guttural growl, and then falling asleep on top of her before fouling himself just as he suffered a massive brain haemorrhage.
Was that chunder he smelt? Ah, yes! And, in fact, it was his, and he had fallen asleep in it. Oh, rock’n’roll, eh? What a lau-hoooarghh! Ah, some more. Well, better to get it o-pppfffrrrbbbbsplsplsplppp. Ooh, a hot, wet fart-cum-turd. He hadn’t meant to do that. Well, he had, but not in the front garden and definitely not with an audience and surrounded by several news crews.